The Magician's Sons

Chapter 31

Yes, he had thought it would be a moment of real glory. And who knew? Perhaps it would lead Charlie to greater things. Mr. Jones might be so happy with him that he would promote the lad to a place of more authority. Surely it was only a matter of time before the manager realized that he was wasting the intelligent boy's talents by keeping him a mere rubbish boy. How disappointed he had felt when he had presented himself in Mr. Jones's office. At last, Mr. Jones had made the reality known that Charlie's wage was a meager three pennies a day.

Lucrative hopes had started crumbling into the wastebasket for Charlie. He wasn't earning enough to sustain his family, nor was it enough to send him to college. For once, the awful possibility struck him that he would be a poor boy all of his life. Riches may never come his way. Fame may never find him.

"Pardon me." The deep voice snapped Charlie out of his morbid recollections. With a start, he realized that he had paused in front of a doorway. A middle-aged man gave him a humored smile as he waited for Charlie to let him pass.

"Oh! Do excuse me!" the janitor exclaimed nervously. "I did not see you there!"

"No matter lad. But please quiet your voice. I am Dr. Vincent, and this is the door to my patient's room."

Charlie couldn't help perking up with interest. "You mean the fellow who started the fire?"

"Shh!" the doctor warned. Then, quietly, he nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid he has admitted to that unfortunate event."

"Forgive me for being nosy, but I cannot help it. Will the man...live?"

Dr. Vincent began to laugh. "Amazing how the unseen attracts all kinds of speculation and causes people to draw their own misshapen conclusions!" he remarked cheerfully. "Yes, yes. The boy will live. He was badly burned in the incident, but it was not fatal. It will take him a long time to recover, but I am not too concerned about that. He —will— recover. At present, it is his nerves which trouble me. That is why I must ask you to be very quiet when passing this area. I thank you for your compliance. Now, good day."

Charlie thought no more about the doctor's request, but he did think about Blair for a while. His mind first recalled the unnerving moment when Norman had jerked his bucket of mop water away to dowse the flames. Then he remembered the unsettling sight of the blistered young man who had been carried out of the basement. Last of all, Charlie thought about the insufferable day when Blair had sent him off to fetch Periwinkle, the mare, and had cheated him of five pence. Even though he really did pity Blair's decrepit condition, that thought made him grimace in frustration.

What a boar! What a rogue! He breaks his promise, deprives me of five pennies, and then nearly sets fire to the establishment! Really!

Charlie felt particularly unhappy with Blair Jameson at that moment because Mr. Jones had charged him with the task of cleaning up after the young rabblerousers' mishap in the basement.

A few minutes later, Charlie was climbing down the basement stairs with a lantern in one hand and a basket of cleaning supplies in the other. By his lantern's light, he surveyed the damaged carpet. It was lightly singed in areas and completely scorched in others. The worst of the damage surrounded the area where Blair's flaming body had fallen at the foot of the steps. Charlie had quite a time of peeling up the old, filthy carpet. As he worked, he thought more about his lamentable situation than the tragedy which had taken place in that basement.

Slowly, Charlie made his way back upstairs again, rolling and gathering the dingy red carpet as he went. One step at a time, he made progress until he heard something roll and clatter down onto a stairstep. Then he stopped with curiosity and lifted his lantern high to search for the lost object.